The Messy-Haired Time Traveller - Round 3 of the QLFC
by HarryPotterGirlForever
Summary: When the Potters come to visit, it isn't long before James gets into trouble. But this time, has he gone too far? Written for Round 3 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Oneshot


_Quidditch League, Round 3_

_Position: Beater 1_

_Prompts: Family (word), "Do what you want." (dialogue) and Decision (word)._

_Word Count: 2,106_

**The Messy haired Time-Traveller**

It was a warm day in August when the Potter children came round. Rose glanced into the library just as bright emerald flames burst up in the fireplace and Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny and her cousins appeared there. The Floo Network never ceased to amaze Rose.

Rose had so much to tell her cousins. For example, there had been a messy black-haired boy who seemed to be stalking her. He stood at the end of the road every day and appeared to be watching their house. It had been going on for several weeks, and the boy was really starting to unnerve Rose. And, of course, there were the end-of-year tests to talk about. Rose was only in year 2 of Hogwarts, so the tests weren't that important, but Rose was extremely proud of her – albeit meaningless – results.

"Rose!" Lily, the youngest, cried out, running over to her freckly, red-haired cousin and engulfing her in a tight hug. Rose laughed and hugged her back happily. She loved when her cousins came to visit.

Rose disentangled herself from Lily and held her at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You've grown, Lils!" she cried. Lily blushed and nodded.

"Hi Rose, honey," Ginny smiled warmly at her niece, wrapping her in a soft hug. "How is school?" she asked.

Rose grinned. "It's great!" she cried. "I'll be able to go to Hogsmeade next year, and it's going to be _so_ great and-"

She was interrupted by someone clapping her, hard, on the back. Rose jumped and turned round to see none other than her troublesome older cousin, James. "Hey, Red," James ruffled Rose's hair affectionately.

Rose smiled thinly at him. "When will you stop calling me that, James?" she asked. _Red_ was the name that James used to call Rose when they were both much younger, but Rose's distaste for the name had made it amusing for James to call her it against her will, so it had stuck.

"I don't see why you hate it so much!" he said, before wrapping her in a quick hug. "Anyway, how are you? I haven't seen you since school broke up."

Rose smiled. Sure, she and James bickered – a lot – but at the end of the day, they were cousins and they still loved and cared for each other. "I'm alright. It's been a bit boring around here, all on my own, especially with Hugo going out with his friends so much," She looked down at the floor. To tell the truth, Rose was bored out of her mind. Her family had all been very busy recently, what with work and studying and her parents' divorce. She desperately wanted something to do, someone to play with.

James grinned. "Well I'll change that. Come on!" and with that, James grabbed Rose's hand and whisked her out of the room.

They raced upstairs. "Where are we going?" Lily asked breathlessly. James merely laughed.

"We're going to have _fun_!" he said. Rose bit her lip. Sometimes, James' opinion of 'fun' differed greatly from hers.

James led Rose down the hall. _This is ridiculous_, Rose thought. It was her house, and _he_ was leading _her_ through it! Finally, they stopped outside a polished oak door. Rose frowned. "This is Mum's study…" she said. "We're not meant to go in there."

"Oh, Rose," James laughed. "You always were a goody-two-shoes. Come on, I bet she keeps all _kinds_ of interesting stuff in here!"

Before Rose could protest further, James twisted the handle on the door, pushed it gently open, and led her inside.

The room had a homely, musty smell that both comforted Rose and made her feel the need to cough. James flicked a light switch on the wall and illuminated the room; a desk by the back wall, with a padded chair in front of it. A long, tall bookcase took up the rest of the wall, and a sofa stretched across the right wall.

James immediately went over to the desk and plonked himself down on the chair. He then opened up the desk drawers and started rummaging around inside. Rose rushed forward and tried to pull him away, but to no avail. "James, what are you _doing_?" she asked angrily. "This is Mum's study, its private!"

She tried to wrench him away again, but James ignored her. "What are you looking for, anyway?" she asked, suddenly curious. This wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing, James had _planned_ this.

James shrugged. "Just something Dad mentioned the other day," he said mysteriously.

Rose narrowed her eyes. "Is it something for a prank?" she asked. "Because if it is, I _really_ don't think Mum would have it, as she didn't participate in that kind of thing when she was at school-"

She trailed off as James pulled something out of the drawer. "Found it!" he cried triumphantly. The 'it' in question was a shiny gold circle with two buttons at both sides, and a long gold chain attached to the top. It seemed to me a necklace, but the whole thing buzzed with magical potential.

Rose subconsciously stepped closer to it as she stared at it. "What…" she began, but James interrupted her.

"It's called a Time Turner," he told Rose. "I heard Dad talking about it the other day; apparently they used it to save a Hippogriff when they were at Hogwarts or something. I thought it'd be cool to see if Aunt Hermione still had it – and she does!"

James twirled the Time Turner in his hands, marvelling at how something so small could actually send people _back in time_.

Rose snatched it away from James. "If it really _does_ send people back in time," she said. "Which I _highly_ doubt," she added, "Then we _really_ shouldn't mess about with it."

"Oh, please," James snorted. "Don't tell me you're not at _all_ curious about whether it works or not." he said, raising his eyebrows at Rose.

Placing the Time Turner gently back on the desk, Rose shook her head. "No. I couldn't care in the slightest," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Fine, _You _can stay here and live a boring life, while I go back in time and have an adventure," James said. Rose opened her mouth to reply, but James cut her off. "Nope, no arguing. It's my choice, and I will stick by it."

Rose glared at James. "Fine," she sighed. "Do what you want." Rose just hoped he would make the right decision…

"Yay!" James grinned. "Thanks Rose. Don't tell Aunt 'Mione I took the Time Turner, ok?"

But before Rose could respond, James had spun the knobs on either side and faded from the room. "No! James! How far back did you go…?" Rose trailed of as she realised she was talking to an empty room. James had gone. "Damn it, James. You'd better not have gone really far back in time, because believe me, I am _not_ covering for you."

When James reappeared, he immediately had to shield his face from the debris flying at him. Planks of wood, stones and many other random things flew past him, a couple hitting him on the back as he crouched down, as if trying to bury him in the floor. "Ow!" he exclaimed angrily, as what looked like half a sofa fell on James, pinning him to the floor.

The wind was howling past. It tore the sofa away from James again and he sat up, barely having time to catch his breath before another piece of furniture barrelled towards him. James dived to the side, barely avoiding the broken table.

In the distance, he heard a terrible groaning, following by a loud _thump_. He winced. That didn't sound good. Lifting his head quickly to get a look at his surroundings, James saw a scene of destruction and terror around him. Trees had uprooted, power lines had toppled over… It looked as if an evil giant had swept his hand across the land and destroyed everything. What could have caused this?

James assumed that it had something to do with the terrible storm. He cast his mind back to recent storms he'd heard about. He couldn't have gone _too_ far back, as he would probably have had to turn it a _lot_ more to go years back in time. There were power lines, as well, so it couldn't be Roman times or anything like that. James sighed. Why did he _never_ listen to Rose?

Crawling over to an uprooted tree, James squeezed underneath it so that he was (partly) shielded from the roaring wind. And he waited.

James wasn't sure how, but he supposed he must've fallen asleep at some point. Because now, the wind had died down and had been replaced with a cacophony of people, all talking and yelling and generally being very disruptive. James rolled out from underneath the trunk, which, miraculously, had not fallen and squished him during the night – which James was very thankful for. After brushing himself off and checking that the Time Turner was still around his neck – which it was – James started making his way towards the large crowd of people. "What happened?" he asked, yawning as he did so.

They all turned to him. James realised he probably looked terrible – he _had_ slept underneath a tree trunk; his hair was a mess, he had dirt all over him and his trousers were ripped.

"What happened?" he asked again. "Was… Was there a war or something?" he laughed nervously. "Although, I think I would've remembered something like that… It certainly would've been in the papers."

The crowd of people continued to stare at him. A policeman stepped forward. "It was a storm, young man. People are calling it St Jude. And yes, you certainly would remember a war."

James nodded slowly, digesting the information. "And – you're going to think me an idiot for asking this – what day is it?"

The policeman frowned. "It's Tuesday," he said. "Why?"

"No, no…" James said. "What day of the month? And what month? And can you tell me the year as well, please?"

"It's the 29th October, 2013," informed one of the crowd. "The St Jude storm happened yesterday, on the 28th."

Suddenly, James' knees gave way and he collapsed to the floor. "2013…" he murmured. "Its 2013… I'm in bloody 2013…" the crowd looked on, thoroughly bewildered, as James rocked slowly back and forth as if he was a mental patient.

"Rose, do you know what happened to James?" asked Ginny. It was dinner time and everybody had sat down and promptly noticed the absence of James, the eldest Potter child.

Rose reddened and looked down. "Umm, n-no," she stuttered.

Ginny clearly didn't buy this unconvincing performance. "Really?" she asked. "Because the last time anybody saw him, he was going upstairs with you."

"I-I don't know where he is, Aunt Ginny," Rose replied truthfully. "He disappeared, a little while ago."

"Alright…" Ginny said "Well, we can't wait for him. The dinner will get cold," so the family began eating.

About halfway through dinner, there was a knock at the door. Rose was nearest the door, so Hermione sent her to answer it.

Much to Rose's surprise, on the door stood James – albeit a very bedraggled and dirty James.

"James!" Rose exclaimed with surprise. "What happened to you? No offence, but you look like a mess."

James shrugged. "_You _try living for 5 years in the past with no money or belongings, see what happens to you."

Rose gasped. "5 years!?" she cried in surprise. "How did you manage?"

"Well, you know at Hogwarts, we had that boy just appear one day?" he asked.

"Yeah," Rose nodded, recalling the funny, black-haired boy who had come to Hogwarts one day and stayed for over 4 years, before abruptly disappearing one day. Then it dawned on her and Rose gaped at James. "_You _were John Silverman?" she asked.

James nodded and winked. "I had to leave quite a while ago, since I needed time to get here and everything. And," he added. "That boy, who you thought was stalking you…"

For the third time in as many minutes, Rose gasped. "Don't tell me that was you," she cried in disbelief.

"I couldn't quite remember what day we came over, you see," he explained. "So I had to watch the house and wait until today before I made my entrance."

Suddenly, Rose realised something. "Hang on," she said slowly. "If you went back 5 years, does that mean you're 5 years older now?"

James nodded. "Don't worry, I'm sure mum and dad won't notice…"


End file.
